


Different

by KeyStone



Series: Tales of Pearl the White Wyvern [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude is totally not spying on Teach, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fishing, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, It's not what you think promise, Okay he is spying on Teach, Pre-Time Skip, Sky puppies, baby wyvern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyStone/pseuds/KeyStone
Summary: Out of all of the things he’s expecting a scaly mass of white fluttering around with a fish head in its mouth certainly isn't one of them. “Is that, is that a baby wyvern?”





	Different

Claude isn't spying on Teach. No, he'd never do that. He might be a schemer, but he’d never actually spy on her. Sure, he technically snooped through her office. And yeah, he’s been following her around like a second shadow. And yes, he’s defiantly had to dodge Teach’s watchful eyes by hiding in a barrel or two. Oh, and he's most certainly been taking note of her daily routine. And okay he's been listening in on her conversations, but he isn't spying. He’s just taking part in some simple strategic information gathering--that’s all. 

Okay so maybe he is spying or worse borderline stalking, but what else do you expect? He’s Claude, and she's a mystery. Age unknown. Thoughts unreadable. Motivations unclear. Heritage unfathomable. Weaknesses undiscovered. Beliefs undeclared. Past mysterious. Relationship with Lady Rhea baffling. Potential unlimited. How could he not spy strategically gather information on her? 

Claude blinks the sun out of his eyes and inwardly sighs. Months. He's been gathering information on her, for months. Craning his neck at odd angles, searching documents, jumping behind bushes, crouching behind crates, asking questions, and straining his ears for months. And for what? Tired eyes? Aching muscles? Suspicious glances? Pounding headaches? How could one person be such a mystery? Give up so few answers?

Yeah, he's learned a few things. He's learned that she loves to fish. That despite his strength Teach can best Jeralt without really trying. That she likes to sneak out at night and gaze at the stars. That her heart is big, but her smiles are small. That she drinks her tea in tiny sips. That she listens. Really listens. It doesn't matter what it is, she listens. Be it Hanneman's ramblings about Manuela eating sandwiches off the floor or Ignatz guilty rants about painting--she listens, leaves you feeling heard. He's gathered small truths, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough.  
He gazes at her dark teal hair waving in the wind as she casts a new line. The smell of the docks sticks in his throat. He sighs, for all the truths he’s unearthed he's added just as many unknowns. Like that convoy bag of hers. How in the world did she fit so many items in it? Why just the other day he’d seen her fetch out an iron sword, a silver bow, and a javelin from its depths. How did such large items get in such a small space? How heavy was it? How did it work? Enchantment? It had to be enchanted, right? But then, he’d never heard of such a thing before. Perhaps Lysithea would know more. He'd have to ask her about it later. 

Then there was her uncanny ability to locate lost items. Who notices a button, picks it up, and then runs around the monastery to track down its owner? Teach, that's who. And who looks at a turn and tattered drawing of a centipede full of punctures holes and sees it as something other than an odd and disturbing not of trash? Dear Teach, of course. He shakes his head, how she managed to find such things was just another mystery. And so was how she always knew who they belonged to. 

Claude shifts his weight and wills his leg to stay awake. Staying out of sight while Teach fished the afternoon away wasn't exactly comfortable. But it is worth it. Her convoy bags and a knack for finding missing items were intriguing, but lately, there's was something a little fishier going on with Teach--and he is going to figure it out. 

The newest mystery he’s uncovered, the one that’s been nagging at him for weeks is Byleth’s peculiar change in fishing habits. Teach always fished, that was normal. It was one of the first things he learned about her through his strategic information-gathering sessions. Thing is, Teach only fishes once or twice a month. Lately, though she’s been fishing every day without fail. It bothered him. It shouldn't, but it did.

At first, he thought she’d been recruited into helping provide provisions. It made sense after all, with the increase in bandits accruing supplies had become a tad more difficult. And a reason like that would probably explain her willingness to stop sitting in on Manuela’s combat medicine course with her Golden Deer. Having Teach sit was rather entertaining at times. Especially when she spoke up about the practicality of Manuela's so-called field techniques. The seat next to him felt empty without her in it. 

The thing is, Teach's overzealous fishing habitats being the result of provision gathering, while logical, was unlikely. The only one willing to delegate such a task to Teach is Seteth and as far as Claude can tell he’d done no such thing. Then there was the fact that according to the dining hall staff, Teach hadn't been dropping off any fish.

As far as he can tell, Teach was keeping her catch. And it wasn’t merely one little fish a day either. No, it was three or four. What in the world is she doing with all those fish? Is she eating them? But then, hadn't she said that didn’t even like fish that much? Is fishing just a way to distress? To relax? But then why keep the fish? He shakes his head. Teach's fishing habitats shouldn’t bother him, he knows that, but they are well bizarre--bizarre and solvable. He has so many questions and so few answers. Today though, today he will find some answers. They might be answers about what Teach does with a butt load of fish, but hey answers are answers. 

He takes a deep breath and eyes his target. She’s been sitting at the docks for a while. He feels his heartbeat a little faster. Now's about the time he's running off to Manuela’s lecture, but not today. Today is different. Officially speaking, Manuela canceled class because she came down with a "sudden illness.” Unofficially speaking, Manuela locked herself up in her room after a particularly disastrous date and said the hell with class. Teach typically covered for her on such days, but not this time. No, instead of covering Teach is fishing. It was strange considering how she typically drops everything to help someone.

Hidden from just out of sight he watches Teach's line twitch from cautious nibbles. It doesn’t take her long to set the hook and add the finned critter to her pile. That makes four, he thinks. Curiously he watches her wrap her catch in parchment and start to leave. Odd, when he's spotted her fishing before he's seen her take the time to skin and gut her catch.  
He waits to follow. Waits for her to gather her things and set out across the monastery before he saunters after her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize where she’s going. Her quarters. He takes the next turn. Perhaps he's mistaken. Nope, she's is definitely heading back to her quarters. But why? Why choose to bring a bunch of stinky fish back to her sleeping quarters? Did she even have a stove? A place to gut them? It didn't make sense.

He slinks behind a weathered post and watches scaly tails flop as she walks towards her door. Within moments she is reaching deep in her bag. He cocks an eyebrow when he hears the rattle of keys as she unlocks the door. Strange, he's never seen her door locked before. So why was it locked now? He strokes his chin, eyes pinned to her as she cracks the door and slithers through the crack before shutting it behind her. Odd, why is she entering like that? And doesn’t she typically keep the door open when she’s in too? Come to think of it doesn’t she also tend to leave it open when she’s gone too? The only time he’s seen it closed is at night when he’s sneaking off to the library.

His mind swirls, observation isn't getting him answers. Perhaps he’ll pay her a visit. A simple knock, a question or two about their last lecture, a sharp smile--that'd get him through the door. But would it be suspicious? He shakes his head, no. He’s always stopping by to pester her, surely, she’ll think nothing of it. Still, he sighs, making his way to her quarters, he knows he is pushing his luck. How she hasn't caught him yet is more of a mystery than a miracle, and it's one he isn't sure he wants resolved.

He's a second away from knocking when he hears it. It's soft, light. A bubble of a sound. His hand, poised to knock inches from rough wood, freezes. That sound it's … laughter. He shuffles forward, closer to the echo escaping from the airy gaps in her door. No, not laughter. Giggles, girlish giggles. Stoic Teach was laughing, giggling. He smiles. Hearing her giggle like that felt like learning a secret. A secret never told before. It's a secret he needs to hear again.

A breath of laughter meets his ears, he leans into the sound.

"Stop, hehe. Come on now that tickles."

He leans back, head swirling. What did Teach just say?

“Ouch don’t bite so hard! We’ve already discussed this; love bites are okay only when they don’t leave marks.”

Tinges of red brush his face. He came to investigate Tracy's fishing behaviors not . . . not her . . . He shakes his head. He shouldn't be hearing this. He didn't want to hear this. This isn't a secret he wants to know.

“We are not doing this on the desk. Not again, little love. You got all sorts of fluids on my lesson plans last time.” 

The noise that escapes Claude isn't subtle. It's a choking sort of sound part shock part embarrassment. His mind reels, it feels like reality is cracking. The squeak of metal hinges pulls him back, away from the shattering. He can feel his lungs working again. The swing of her door jump-starts his brain. It's telling him to run, to flee, to go but his legs are stuck, plastered to the ground in thoughtless rebellion. If his legs won't run, his heart will. He can feel it. It will beat and pound till it breaks free. But it can't as hard as it tries, it can't--there's not enough time.

Frozen he watches her peak through her door. When her eyes find him an all but invisible smirk sneaks across her face.

"Ah, it's you. Didn't expect you to still be out here."

Well shit. She knew. But what did she know? That he'd been standing here? That he'd been listening? That he'd been following her? He holds in his fluster. Knowing Teach it was all of the above and more. His heart beats faster, pounds harder.

“Oh uh, Teach whatever do you mean? I was just uh," he nervously rubs the back of his neck," out for a stroll. When I saw you, I thought I'd um follow you back and see about asking you a few questions about our last lesson." His words are rough, ungraceful, but he's thankful for them all the same. Words were hope. Words were his way out. "But um it sounds like you are in busy. So, I uh can come back later."

"Hmm is that so?" The look she gives him is wordless, but clear 'Nice try, but that hardly explains all the hiding behind barrels Claude. But I'll play along.'  
He sighs a breath of relief. He's safe. He's going to getaway. She's going to pretend. 

"You're in luck, I'm not busy. So why don't you come in? In fact, there is someone I'd like you to meet."

He pales, "Teach um uh actually I just remembered . . ."

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand, and drags him inside "Come on now, only one of us bites."

Out of all of the things he’s expecting a scaly mass of white fluttering around with a fish head in its mouth certainly isn't one of them. “Is that, is that a baby wyvern?”

She nods, giving him a rare smile before turning to glare at her other 'guest,' "It is, and that cute little baby wyvern better not be fluttering her way up to my desk with that fish head." An eep escapes the tiny creature, and in an instant, the quiet flutter of wings ceases as the critter drops sheepishly to the ground.

"Teach, I have so many questions." The number one is why she has a baby wyvern in her quarters, but based on the look she's giving him he figures he'll work his way up to that one.  
He watches her sit down on the floor. Before she's even settled the hatchling's curling up in her lap. He smiles as it chomps happily on its fish 

“So, the fish?" he asks.

She strokes the creatures head to tail, and motions for him to join them on the floor. “All for her needs the extra nutrients.”

By the time he's on the floor, the little wyvern is finished with the fish. It takes them only a few moments to scuttle out of Teach's lap and start sniffing him. It isn't long before they are head butting him and demanding pets. The smile on his face is real "Aren't you precious?" He's been around wyverns before, but never this young, he moves his hand across its white scales or this unique.

"Her name's Pearl. And she might be precious, but she's also a bit of a nibbler. Watch out for her love bites, she's still learning how to be gentle."

Seconds later he feels the brush of teeth across his skin, but for some reason, he's too happy to really care when they break his skin. His heart starts thumping again when he catches Teach staring at them. He's never seen her look so tender.

He stares back at her, the makings of a smirk ending across his face. “Okay, but um I’ve got to ask Teach, why exactly do you have a baby wyvern in your room?”  
She frowns, “No one wanted her. Pearl, she's different, unique."

He arches an eyebrow, "You mean the whiteness?" He's been around wyvern enough to know that Pearl is different.

She nods, "The mother rejected her. Mother probably saw her as a threat, a danger to the other hatchings. In the wild, well she’d be a calling card for predators. It's brutal but understandable.”

He frowns, “But that doesn’t explain why you have her Teach. I mean, not to question your skills, but wouldn’t someone with more experience is better suited to the role of mommy wyvern?

She reaches out her hand and beckons Pearl. A smile stretches across his face at how the wyvern runs towards her touch. The smile widens at the sounds of Pearl's chirps as Teach scratches behind her ears. “Perhaps, but the Wyvern masters didn't want her. She wasn’t considered worth rearing."

His smile falters, “What do you mean Teach?”

She sighs, “Would you want to ride a white wyvern into battle? Something so unique, so bright, so different . . .”

Realization dawns his face, “Would be targeted.”

Her shoulder's slump, “Yes, and a trait like that . . . it's not something they wanted in the breeding line."

A bitter taste lingers in his mouth, "So they just . . ."

She nods, eyes rueful.

His chest tightens, “So no one wanted her, except you.”

She nods, “but why Teach? Why’d you want her?”

“I know what it is like to be different." She smiles, "Well that," she scoops up the white little wyvern “and just looks at that precious toothy little grin, and those itty-bitty wings, and these big scaly feet.  
How could I say no to such an adorable little sky puppy?”

He's heard the rumors of the Ashen Demon. Of the warrior who strikes down enemies without hesitation, without remorse, without emotion. He's heard the whispers passed across student's lips about his Teach. About how she seems empty, hollow, less than human. He takes her in watching her tickle the sensitive underbelly of Pearl. A serene look is plastered across her face. How they saw her that way was a mystery. She was so much more.

He smiles a real smile. "So why is she staying with you Teach?"

"It’s safer here, with me. She kept getting nipped at." She frowns, "Wish being different didn't mean being alone I wish she wasn’t so alone."

He watches Pearl wiggle free and makes her way towards him. He meets her eager headbutts with nimble hands. She watches him pick up Pearl and rub her snout. Her frown vanishes, his smile deepens.

“She likes you; you know.”

“I like her too.”

He glances at her, eyes hopeful. "You know Teach if she needs a friend, I could come see her sometime? Um, I mean, I’m pretty sure all of us Golden Deer could pitch in a little. There's no need for little Pearl to be alone. Not when we're here.”

She smiles, “I'd like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I have felt brave enough to post any of my writing, so any kudos or feedback you feel like sharing is greatly appreciated.  
And yes the white wyvern in the story is Claude's white wyvern. After all, someone has to look after Pearl while Teach sleeps for five years.


End file.
